To My Darling Bookworm
by arenaCeous
Summary: Fred's been gone for no more than a week and here I am betraying him with his younger brother. Well, that's one way to look at it I suppose. One can argue that Fred and I have been betraying Ron for years.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Cheers to J.K. one of the greatest women I know. She created Harry Potter, I did not.

**xoxo xoxo xoxo**

Do you know what it's like to watch the one person you love most in this world die, right before your eyes?

I do.

The initial blow of it isn't as painful as you thought it would be. The world doesn't stop. The war continues around you and you're forced to struggle to your feet, stumble through the wreckage and fight the urge to give up and die right there with them. And that pain you're supposed to be feeling? That gut-wrenching absolute heartbreak that leaves you feeling like your entire world has been sucked into this big black pit of misery?

Well.. that comes after.

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"_No! Fred! No!"_

I'm frozen, or at least it feels like I'm frozen. I can hear sounds, loud explosions, screaming and crying; Harry is holding my hand and Ron, where was Ron?

My eyes focus in on him and Percy, knelt by Fred's body. The prat wasn't getting up. This was most certainly _not_ the time to be joking around like this. I want to run up to him and give him a nice square kick in the groin but something is holding me back. I'm paralyzed and the only thing I feel is Harry's hand in mine. Why can't I move? There's a war going on around me and I can't move.

I have but a whole five seconds to react before I see a body fall past the big gaping hole in the school, and the next thing I know Harry and Ron are pulling me to the floor. I am broken out of my stupor. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that people were trying to kill us. I'm screaming Fred's name. I am calling him all kinds of terrible things and still he does not rise. I guess it must be difficult to get up when you have Percy collapsed ontop of your body like that. I yell at Percy to get off him and I'm thankful that Ron has enough sense to try and pull him off of Fred.

"_Percy, you can't do anything for him! We're going to –"_

What was Ron talking about? For heaven's sakes all he had to do was get off of him and all Fred needed to do was stop being such a git so we could end this stupid war once and for all. I don't have time to yell at either of them as I'm distracted by a monstrous spider bearing down on us, followed by it's litter of friends as they crawled through the previously aforementioned hole in the wall. A terrible scream emits from my throat and Harry and Ron are blasting them out of sight. Ducking all the flying curses I make my way towards Fred and Percy but Harry has beaten me to it. I watch as the pair of them lift Fred's body out of harm's way and that's when it hits me.

I'm torn back into reality as I stare at his open eyes, confirming that he hasn't been knocked unconscious; but watching Harry and Percy struggle beneath his weight, watching as his arm fell limply to his side and drag along I knew he wasn't awake either.

Fred Weasley was dead.

A scream bubbles in my throat but I can't make a sound. Percy screams out a name and is in full pursuit of Fred's killer. Ron chases after them but I can't bear to be here anymore so I take off after Ron, refusing to believe this is anything but a terrible dream. I reach him and grab him by his forearm, yanking him out of the way of an incoming curse. I don't know if the sudden rush of adrenaline has made me stronger, or that Ron has suddenly become very weak because I manage to pull him behind a tapestry. I want nothing more than to follow Percy, avenge Fred's death but I know deep down the only way to truly avenge his death is to end this, right now. Ron begins to fight back and I feel myself losing hold of him. A panic starts to rise in my chest as I picture the thought of letting him go and losing him too.

"_Listen to me—LISTEN, RON!"_ Harry joins us as I'm screaming at Ron and tightening my hold on him. _"Ron, we're the only ones who can end it! Please – Ron – we need the snake, we've got to kill the snake!"_ I feel hot tears rolling down my face. I struggle in between heaving breaths to try and get these words out. I need him to see reason and more than anything I need him to calm down because it's taking every bit of strength I have to abandon all forms of sanity and run to Fred's lifeless body.

"_We will fight!" _I sob, holding onto Ron tighter, unsure of whether I'm trying to keep him here or keep myself tethered to this spot. _"We're the only ones who can end it!"_ Magically I feel my sobs begin to subside and with a clear mind I know exactly what it is that we need to do. I need to keep Ron on track too. I need to stay strong or the both of us and not let him see how badly Fred's death has affected me.

Most importantly, I can't let him see how much I loved his brother.


	2. Funeral

A/N: My brain is just going a mile a minute so hopefully I can pound out these chapters for you guys and not leave you hanging. Thanks for reading and feel free to review! Constructive criticism is always welcome :)

**xo xo xo**

"Fred Weasley was funny, kind, loyal and caring. . . he was also my very first friend."

I have no idea what I'm doing up here. People are staring at me in confusion, unaware that Fred and I had more of a connection other than our love for Ron. After hearing Ginny, Harry and all his brothers talk about him I guess I couldn't help myself. I couldn't bear to let people think that I was merely the girl who gave him at least two detentions a week and lectured him at least once a day. So here I am, at his funeral, telling everyone who has ever loved him about the events that occurred on October 31st, 1991.

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"_it's no wonder no one can stand her, she's a nightmare, honestly."_

Hermione pushed past Ron, knocking forcibly into his shoulder as she fled past the crowd of students as fast as she could. She tried to hold back her tears but they had escaped and began rolling down her cheeks for all the school to see. How could she have been so stupid to think that people would like praise and admire her for her intelligence? So far, the only thing her thirst for knowledge had brought upon her was pain and humiliation.

Dashing down a flight of stairs Hermione reached the bottom and promptly crashed into a tall, solid figure. The mountain of books she had in her arms scattered to the floor and without bothering to look at the victim of her crash, Hermione dropped to her knees and began gathering her belongings. Her bushy hair fell like a curtain over her eyes, and for the first time in years she was thankful for her untamable mane of curls. Crouched down on the floor like this with her head bowed, nobody could tell she was crying.

"Woah, easy there bookworm. What's the rush?"

Hermione groaned inwardly once she recognized the voice. She had crashed into none other than Fred Weasley, jokester extraordinaire. He and his twin brother George were legends in the Gryffindor house. He had introduced himself at the Welcome Feast but since then she barely had any contact with him save the occasional hello in the Gryffindor common room. He was a third year after all, what business would he have with a first year like her.

Ignoring him Hermione continued to collect her books, hoping he would take the hint and go away. Not only did she highly disapprove of all the mischief and mayhem he and his twin caused within Hogwarts, the fact that he was also Ron's older brother was just the cherry on top of her humiliating day. Sure he was often a prat to his baby brother, Hermione witnessed that first-hand at breakfast or in the common room, but she had heard enough stories about the Weasley family from other students to make an educated assumption about how close and loyal they were to each other. Convinced that he already disliked her because she was such a "know-it-all" as Professor Snape had put it, and a stickler for rules to boot, Hermione was in no mood to interact with him.

Unfortunately for her, Fred did not continue on his merry way like she hoped he would. Instead he dropped to his knees in front of her and gathered the remainder of her belongings. Rising to her feet Hermione took her books from him, muttered a quick "thank you" and rushed away.

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Fred Weasley loved being the life of the party. He enjoyed making people laugh as much as he enjoyed pranking them. He considered himself a rather happy and uplifting person. There were very few things in the world that could break Fred Weasley's spirits, and yet for some ridiculously unknown reason, the sight of Hermione Granger's tear-stained face did just that. There he was just minding his own business as he made his way to charms class and before he knew it, a short little bushy-haired girl was descending from the staircase and barreling into him. As he helped her collect her books Fred couldn't help but notice the occasional sniffle that made it sound like she had been crying. Placing her books back in her arms he caught a quick glimpse of her face that confirmed his suspicions. However, before he got a chance to ask what was wrong she had fled the scene, leaving Fred standing there alone in the corridor and late for Charms.

Time flew by so fast while Fred was in Charms that he barely registered what was going on. Paying no attention to Flitwick whatsoever, Fred couldn't help but let his thoughts stray to the sad, lonely eyes belonging to the one Hermione Granger. All his subsequent classes seemed to pass by in a blur as well. He couldn't understand why he was thinking about her so much; it's not like they were friends or anything. They barely spoke two words to each other and yet Fred could not help but feel sad for her. From what he had learned about her in the past month or so, he knew she was muggleborn and gathered that an entirely new world like this must have been difficult for her to adjust to. He wasn't fond of her disapproving glares or exasperated sighs everytime he and his brother pulled a prank, but that didn't mean he disliked the girl. There was a reason she was placed in Gryffindor and after spending two of the best years of his life thus far in the greatest house ever, Fred learned that Gryffindors stuck by their own.

Lost in though he failed to notice that his last class of the day had ended and everyone but his two best mates, George and Lee had left class and were making their way down to the Halloween Feast. They were looking at him strangely, not that he could blame them, he barely participated in any of their mischievous plotting the entire class. He shook his head, implying that he didn't want to talk about it, gathered his schoolbag and marched off to the Great Hall.

With George and Lee trailing a little bit behind, Fred formulated a plan that would get Hermione talking about what was wrong. He knew she was a bit on the outs with her fellow first-years, and as horrible as it sounded he had hoped that would leave the seat next to her empty at the Halloween Feast. That way, Fred could slip on in and get her talking and hopefully cheered up so he could get rid of this nagging feeling of sympathy he felt towards her.

Sadly, his plan fell to pieces instantly when he arrived at the Great Hall and found that Hermione had failed to appear at the feast. Making his way to the Gryffindor table, Fred learned that not only had she skipped out on the feast, but on all her afternoon classes as well.

Now Fred knew for certain that something was wrong. Hermione Granger did not skip class; even someone who didn't even know her would know that. Overhearing two other first year girls in her class talking about Hermione crying in the girl's lavatory Fred immediately turned around and left the Great Hall, ignoring the voices of his brothers and friends calling after him.

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An entire afternoon had passed and Hermione began to panic over the thought of all the class she had missed. Surely her professors would be furious, she was going to fall behind and never catch up. Not only would she be the most disliked girl in school, she would no longer be the smartest. Cursing herself for letting Ron's words affect her so much Hermione burst into another fresh set of tears. Heaving and gasping for air she failed to hear the sound of the door opening since all she could hear was her sobs echoing along the bathroom walls.

Pathetically curled up in a ball on the floor of the bathroom stall, Hermione spotted two rather awkwardly large feet walking towards her. Stifling her sobs Hermione wiped back her tears with the sleeve of her robe and hissed in pain as she felt them sting with sensitivity; she had practically rubbed her eyes raw. "Who's there?" she called out meekly, her throat raspy and try from dehydration. Silence followed for a whole minutes before the intruder spoke.

"Hermione it's me, Fred."

What was _he_ doing here? She wasn't in the mood for one his practical jokes. Maybe Ron had sent him to torture her some more. Let her know how much of a bookworm and stick in the mud she was. "Go away," she whispered, hugging her knees tighter to her chest. So of course, in true Fred Weasley fashion, he did the exact opposite. She heard him mutter a quick "alohamora" before the stall of the door swung open, revealing a very concerned looking red-head boy.

Sitting down next to her, he playfully nudged her to make room for him in the stall. Refusing to look him in the eye, Hermione merely buried her face in her arms and cried. "Every- everybody h-hates me" she sobbed, hiccupping in between her words. "Especially your brother." Inexperienced with crying girls Fred awkwardly patted Hermione on the back, unsure of what to say. Instead he just sat there with her in silence while she exhausted herself of all her tears. Five minutes had passed before her tears finally subsided. Hermione lifted her head from her arms and found Fred staring at her. He pushed a stray hair away from her eyes and gave her a warm smile that made Hermione blush.

"I don't hate you." He told her. Without waiting for a reply, Fred rose to his feet and left the bathroom.

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"He never stopped feeling guilty about leaving me there," the audience laughs, "luckily for me Ron and Harry came storming in to the save they day like they always do" My voice cracks as I look at the hundreds of faces staring back at me. My eyes focus in on Harry and Ron staring back at me in shock. After all this time, they were under the impression that they were my first friends. They had no idea Fred had beaten them to it. I don't know why I never told them about that day, especially since they saved me from a troll and all. I suppose I just wanted to keep that moment private, and to myself; especially since the three of us seemed to share everything in the following years. After getting and earful from McGonagall I left them to their fate and made my way back to the common room. Fred was at the portrait entrance waiting for me, apologizing for leaving me at the mercy of the troll. After he had left and heard news of the troll, he tried coming back for me but was sent off to the common room by McGonagall herself.

I begin remembering his smile, the relief painted on his his thirteen-year old face once he realized I was okay; he was so young and alive and it became too much for me. I burst into tears, unable to say anything else. Harry and Ron are on either side of me in seconds, tenderly grasping my arms and helping me off the podium.

I feel Ron's lips brush my cheeks, and I can't help but feel worse.


	3. Oak Tree

I'm sitting beneath my favourite oak tree just within the borders of the Burrow. Fred and I used to sneak away here the summer before my sixth year whenever Fred would visit from his flat. Over the course of my fourth year we became increasingly close. I learned that there was muc more to him than just pranks and mischief, and in return he began to see me as more than the annoying bookworm that yelled at him all the time. I took refuge here after my little meltdown. An hour has passed since Ron and Harry led me away and I took off running for this tree. I'm sure they've buried Fred's body by now, and I hate myself for not being there, for not saying goodbye.

"Hermione?"

My head shoots up and I find Ron staring at my in concern. He doesn't think I can tell, but I can see the confusion beneath his mask. No one expected me to breakdown at Fred's funeral. Hell, nobody expected me to even come up and say anything about him at all. George was possibly the only person in the world who knew how close Fred and I were, oh - and my mother. Half the time I speculated that people assumed I hated Fred for causing so much trouble. Don't get me wrong, Fred caused enough trouble to last me a lifetime, but there was so much more to him than that. It just took me a while to finally see it.

Ron takes a seat beside me, a cautious smile etched upon his face. The best thing about Ron is that when he's not being an insensitive git, he's one of the sweetest guys I know. He's unconsciously noble, brave and everything a man should be. He puts his arm around me and I can't help but feel guilty. Fred's been gone for no more than a week and here I am betraying him with his younger brother. Well, that's one way to look at it I suppose. One can argue that Fred and I have been betraying Ron for years.

After the war ended, Ron and I never got a moment alone. It seemed like there was a funeral every day, there was the kiss on the day of the final battle, but nothing has transpired between us since. I know he's been itching to ask me about it and I know he's holding back because he can see in my eyes that I'm not ready. I can't argue that kissing Ron was a mistake, because deep in my heart I know it wasn't. I had permanently ended things with Fred nearly a year before and I was prepared to move on, ensure a future with Ron had we survived that war, which we did. It didn't even occur to me at the time that Ron could die at any moment's notice. It also didn't occur to me that Fred could too, and so in true Fred Weasley fashion, that's exactly hat he did. He went ahead and got himself killed knowing it would drive me insane.

I feel Ron's arms tighten around me, and the next thing I know he's shaking. He buries his face in my hair and his body is racked with sobs that shred my heart to pieces; then I begin to feel like the insensitive git. Sure, I may have lost someone I loved, but Ron did too; Ron lost his big brother.

His sobs are reduced to mere sniffles and I know exactly how he's feeling. Just like me, he's run out of tears. He releases his tight grip, giving me just enough leeway to twist in his arm and stare into his eyes.

"I miss him too Ron."

He smiles weakly, tucking my hair behind my ears. "How come you never told me about what he did in first year?" he asks me, his tone genuinely innocent rather than accusatory like I was expecting. Just like Fred, sometimes I feel Ron still feels guilty about that night, for the things he said about me.

I really don't know why I never told him or Harry. I guess it was one of those moments I wanted to remain special in my heart, known only to Fred and me. I shrug my shoulders, unable to offer him an answer resembling to the truth. Ron wipes away a tear I don't even notice trailing down my cheek. The sun has long set by now and I finally notice with a shiver that it's beginning to get chilly. Ron rests my head against his chest, lays my legs across his and then conjures a blanket for us.

Silence passes over us, and nothing is said for at least half an hour. I begin to wonder if he's falling asleep but then he opens his mouth to speak. "Tell me more stories about Fred," his voice is rough and scratchy, "Stories that I don't know yet. Good ones, because all I can remember is yelling at him for being a prat." I can hear the sadness in his voice and I reach up to wind my arms around his neck and hug me. "I never got the chance to tell him I love him," he chokes back another sob, and begs me once more to tell him a story.

So I begin to tell him about the Quidditch World Cup, trying to ignore the fact that Voldemort robbed me of that chance too.

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"Come on Granger, I dare you." Fred prodded her in the back with his index finger, forcing Hermione to whip around and hiss at him in anger. They were all at the Quidditch World Cup and the two of them were volunteered by George to collect water. Hermione hadn't known it at the time, but that Fred had begun to develop a bit of a crush on her, even though he was in complete denial, and George was completely aware of it. Ever since Fred had learned that Hermione really let Draco Malfoy in her third year, on top of facing Sirius Black and a werewolf and surviving, he couldn't help but become intrigued by her. Before she was nothing more than one of his little brother's bestfriends and overnight she became this amazing, gutsy human being who he admired for being so bold and brilliant.

"I will not!" she yelled at him, swatting his finger away in annoyance. "It's completely childish and ridiculous!"

"Ah my dear Hermione," he laughed waggling his left eyebrow, "That's what makes it fun."

"Just because you're a five year old that causes trouble and leaves trails of chaos and mayhem for everyone to clean up, doesn't mean you have to drag me into it." Hermione immediately regretted her words before she even caught sight of Fred's crestfallen face. She opened her mouth to apologize but he had already turned on his heel and marched off with his empty buckets.

Sighing Hermione quickly filled her buckets with water, and with a bit of difficulty she managed to haul them back to their campsite where George was waiting for her with his arms crossed against his chest. He didn't look very pleased with her, not that Hermione could blame him.

'What did you say to him?" George asked her angrily. Hermione simply ignored him and delivered her buckets of water to Mr. Weasley before returning to Geroge.

"Where is he?" she asked him. He pointed to a nearby tree where Hermione could see Fred's vibrant red hair slightly peeking out. Pushing past him Hermione headed straight for the tree and found him sitting alone. She lowered herself down next to him and nudged him lightly with her shoulder. "I'm sorry about what you said. I didn't mean it."

Fred picked miserably at the grass, uprooting it from the ground and tossing it aside. "You're lying," he muttered with a bitter tone, "You wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it. You're not that kind of person Granger."

Hermione was at a loss for words. She knew he was right, but she really hadn't meant to hurt his feelings. "Listen Fred, I won't lie and say that sometimes I don't feel that way, but it's not like that's how I see you. You are so much more than those things. Sure I see you as those things when you're annoying me, but can you blame me?"

Fred's eyes darkened as he stood up, putting more distance in between them. "You're right. It's time to grow up. I'm not blind Hermione. I know what you think of me. You look at me the same way my family does, like I'm a huge disappointment." He began walking away but Hermione jumped up and chased after him, reaching out she grabbed for his hand.

"No Fred listen!" She tugged on his arm, knowing fully well she wasn't strong enough to make him move, but if he planned on going anywhere he'd be forced to drag her with him. "Your family thinks you're brilliant. You can make me laugh like no one else can. Even Ron, the boy you've been terrorizing every day since the day he was born, enjoys being around you. I can tell by the way he acts around you, even if he'll never admit it."

Taking two steps Hermione closed the distance between them so she was forced to crane her neck and look up at his towering figure. "Don't sell yourself short Fred Weasley. Give me a chance to get to know you better, I'm sure I'll find more enjoyable qualities about you besides your ability to make me laugh." Instead of looking at her face, Fred seemed to be staring at something else. Looking down Hermione blushed and noticed their hands were still clasped. At some point their fingers had intertwined. She tried to let go, but he wasn't so quick to do so. Tightening his hold on her hand, Fred pulled her into an embrace. Hermione was lucky her face was buried into his chest, otherwise there was no hiding her beet red face.

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I hear Harry calling for us. He sounds worried so Ron yells back with a wave of his hand. I can't blame Harry, I still get anxious too sometimes. After being at war for so long, one can't help but worry when someone they love goes missing for a long period of time.

We rise to our feet and Ron wraps the blanket around my shoulders before lowering his arm to rest lightly around my waist. He leans down and places a sweet kiss on my lips. "Thank you.." he smiles. We walk off towards Harry; marking the last time I ever visit that tree.


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